Nawabzada (1975)
Cast: Asiya, Asad Bukhari, Iqbal Hassan, Najma, Nirala, Afzaal Ahmad, Seema, Nazli, Changezi, Albela, Chakram
Director: Akram Khan
Synopsis: Cheap, cheesy and charmingly sleazy…just what the doctor ordered!
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

One has now watched enough Punjabi films to realize that anything associated with the name of producer-director Akram Khan is guaranteed to provide a spicy masala. A torrid dose of smut, sleaze and kinetic, demented, low-budget energy. Especially the case if filmed before General Zia’s misguided purge. It was misguided because it purged some harmless—if saucy—song and dance for a culture of guns, violence and hatred. The effects of an era that Pakistan is paying for today in 2023. A society that reeks of hypocrisy and double standards, bristling with hostility and hollow morality—The sad reality of The New Age Pakistan, where we now reap the benefits of what we sowed during the General’s loathsome era.

Nawab Zada is Akram Khan’s official sequel to his smash hit Khan Zada (shot in record time and released the same year as Khan Zada). He tries to retain most elements of his previous formula, including virtually the entire cast of his last masterwork. Again, Khan gives all his actors their real names except Asad, who is called Akram. The movie is virtually like taking all the elements and even the plot and music of Khan Zada, and reworking and twisting them just a wee bit to produce something that feels like a continuation of the Khan Zada experience. Only better, though marginally less successful at the Box Office.

The film begins with Akram (Asad) escaping from prison, much to the delight of his impressively masculine-looking mother, Seema, and his sister Najma. He takes refuge in a notorious local club, where he receives asylum so long as he complies with the “Boss’s” orders and passes a test that requires him to thrash an entire posse of hoods. Bokhari aces the test with flying colours, expertly using his ability to summersault, kick, and punch simultaneously. This mysterious Boss is a bit like Charlie (of Angels), in a sense that he speaks to his subjects only through a speaker fixed into a swivel chair. Aasia is the wealthy, glamorous, bombshell beauty daughter of a mysterious Nawab, seemingly the most generous philanthropist in town, though something about him seems unreal. His plump and exceedingly handsome son is a police officer named Iqbal (Iqbal Hassan), madly in love with Akram’s sister Najma.

Things move along at a cracking pace, with Akram performing various dastardly deeds at the behest of his master, the swivel chair. We have come to rely on Akram Khan to deliver several genuinely fabulous cheap club dances, and he delivers in spades. Nawab Zada’s music hits the Bull’s Eye, with each song a voluptuous sizzler set to Tafo’s catchy melodies.

First up, there is a glorious number too too tara ra too too torooroo roo(!) followed by the famous Kharkan dil de tar, filmed on Iqbal and Najma in the same spot the director used for Akh Lade te Ladai ja in Khan Zada. The dance movements and outfits are virtually identical to Akh Lade te ladai ja!

Nawabzada

The plot moves along at a fair jaunt despite the several noticeably lame attempts at comedy involving Nirala, who is even given a painfully laborious and endless song along the way. There is a magnificent twist, not unexpected, it has to be said, at the end of the film, and after a few hair-raising fights involving the wonderfully ebullient and mighty chubby Iqbal Hassan (The “Peoples (C) Hunk”), things wind down to a satisfying conclusion. The only sad aspect of the film is that though Mussarat Shaheen has been credited prominently in the cast, it seems the movie version we watched is missing her role almost entirely. Sadly, this is another case of the censors chopping off bits they felt were not per their mighty standards of decency and morals.

However, let’s be thankful for small mercies that at least the other club dances have remained intact, including the intriguing Nazli number Pyar Tenoon Karna (Madame Noor Jehan). Also, Aasia provides some severe pyrotechnics and proves she is second to none when jumping and leaping about the park and thrusting her body parts out with commendable proficiency! And then there are those Dada-esque camera angles that director Akram comes up with to capture the true beauty of the female posterior.

We found Nawab Zada to be totally in keeping with our expectations. Delightfully cheap and gorgeously vulgar dances, containing several outrageously clever stunts and fights, the utterly ludicrous dramatics and confrontation scenes and the infantile dialogues that one has grown to love and admire. And the scene where Nazli’s arm is ripped from its socket to reveal a stash of loot; James Bondesque, mind-blowing epic stuff—cheap, cheesy and demented, just like our Lollywood films. It is a minor masterpiece that is full of dramatic twists and revelations. Not to be missed.